


Gradient

by AroRomantic



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff, Goemon and Fujiko only get cameos this time around, Jigen has some insecurities, M/M, Marriage Proposal, but OT4 is there, but he's very much loved, checkhov's mozzarella sticks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AroRomantic/pseuds/AroRomantic
Summary: “Say that again.”“No way. I know you heard me.” Lupin crossed his arms, pouting in that strangely childish manner he always used when Jigen refused to react the way he wanted. “Besides, it’s lame to propose twice. Who does that?”“Telling someone to marry you out of the blue isn’t a proposal.”“Bullshit. What else would it be?”“It’s not a proposal!"
Relationships: Background Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko, Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	Gradient

“Say that again.”

“No way. I know you heard me.” Lupin crossed his arms, pouting in that strangely childish manner he always used when Jigen refused to react the way he wanted. “Besides, it’s lame to propose twice. Who does that?”

“Telling someone to marry you out of the blue isn’t a proposal.”

“Bullshit. What else would it be?”

“It’s not a proposal! A proposal has, I don’t know, more ceremony to it.”

Lupin snorted. “What, you want me to get down on one knee? Sprinkle flower petals over you while I wax poetic about the moonlight on your beard?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Jigen felt himself heating up with embarrassment at the image. He was starting to regret leaving his hat near the door when they first came in, but it couldn’t be helped. Lupin had coerced it off him earlier that evening and, like a damn idiot, he’d let him. Although, in Jigen’s defense, he’d been in a good mood. After weeks of prep work, they’d finally pulled off a heist early that morning with Goemon and Fujiko’s help. There’d been some problems with an electric fence, several guard dogs, Zenigata, and a misplaced rubber ducky—he certainly wasn’t going to let Lupin live that down any time soon—but it’d mostly gone off without a hitch. Unless you counted Fujiko flying off with most of the haul a hitch, which Jigen usually did. Unless, as in this case, it meant he no longer had to fight with her over the only television as he’d been doing since she’d invited herself into their little scheme a week earlier. And he was very tired of Italian soap operas.

Goemon vanished over the course of the day as well, striding off with the wind at his back sometime around noon, mumbling about a need to train. It was the first time the other two men would be separated from the samurai in months, and while Jigen loved the man—he was trustworthy, comfortingly calm, a good ear when Lupin was being a bastard, and a good kisser besides—he was also the type to get prickly when he stayed around too long. A bit of alone time in the woods would likely do him some good before he joined back up with their bizarre little group in a few weeks. But for now, it was just Jigen and Lupin. And Lupin had been feeling needy.

Jigen hadn’t thought that unusual by itself. Lupin always got handsy when Fujiko vanished. When he was younger and less secure, he took it for Lupin compensating for her absence. Now he knew it was simply the thief’s way of relaxing when he didn’t need to balance the complicated interpersonal politics of multiple relationships at once. Plus, it wasn’t like Jigen was suffering under the attention. On the contrary, it was nice to have Lupin focused completely on him every once in a while. Although he was still usually the first to pull away. Emotional vulnerability was never Jigen’s strong suit, despite the improvements he’d made since Lupin dragged him, gun and all, into his life.

So no, Jigen hadn’t thought much of Lupin pushing him onto the couch that evening to make out like horny teenagers. That was just Lupin. What was strange were the looks Lupin kept throwing him after Jigen’s stomach grew too empty to ignore and he decided to stop before things got a bit too intimate, despite Lupin’s expected protests.

The looks started subtle. So subtle, in fact, Jigen almost didn’t see them. The first one he caught while he was placing the mozzarella sticks in the oven; Lupin would complain about eating something store-bought for dinner, but if he wanted a three-course, home-cooked meal, he could suck it up and make it himself. The thief in question was still on the couch in the living room, watching him over the counter that divided it from the kitchen. He’d looked away almost as soon as Jigen turned around, but the gunman caught it anyway: a look of intense focus, yet somehow soft. As if all the stresses of the world were suddenly lifted from his shoulders. Jigen’s heart stuttered in his chest—and then the look was gone. It disappeared so fast, Jigen almost thought he imagined it. He opened his mouth to say something, but Lupin had already picked up a book from the side table and well, that was that.

Or at least, it should’ve been. But as the evening went on, Jigen kept catching him. Pouring a glass of wine for each of them: looks. Checking on dinner: looks. Pouring two more glasses of wine: looks. And Lupin still hadn’t said anything. Usually Jigen wasn’t bothered by this sort of thing. He’d been with the thief long enough to know Lupin would talk if he wanted to talk. But the glances were beginning to grate on his patience. Plus, they were a bit too similar to the romantic hero ones Lupin gave women when he needed them on his side. If the thief started to treat him like some damsel he needed to coddle, Jigen was going to shoot him somewhere painful and below the belt. Finally, after nine whole minutes of ignoring him—Jigen was not known for his patience—the gunman decided he’d had enough.

They were on the couch, Lupin sitting on the side closest to the kitchen, Jigen lounging with his head on the opposite armrest, legs thrown over Lupin’s while the thief drew absentminded circles on the older man’s knee with a forefinger, his hand resting there while the other clutched his book. Jigen looked up from his magazine to find the thief not even bothering to hide the glances he was throwing him over the tops of the pages. Jigen returned the glances with what he liked to think was a disappointed look and Lupin liked to claim was a “grumpy” one. He knocked a leg gently against the other man’s chest, shaking off Lupin’s hand in the process. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out already.”

Lupin seemed almost surprised. As if he hadn’t expected his partner to be observant enough to notice him staring all night. It made Jigen want to knee him a little harder. “It better not be a jab at dinner or you aren’t getting any. And I mean that about the sticks and me both.”

Lupin stayed silent. After a minute or so, Jigen huffed softly. There was no dealing nicely with Lupin when he didn’t want to talk and the gunman didn’t have the energy to wrestle it out of him tonight. He moved to stand. Then, before he could drop a leg to the floor, Lupin grabbed him by the knee, turned to look him in the eye, and finally opened his mouth. “Jigen. Marry me.” The gunman almost fell off the couch.

So here they were: Lupin pouting on the cushions with his arms crossed, Jigen standing, glaring down at him with a blush he very much wished would disappear. “Why are you suddenly asking me to marry you anyway?”

Lupin shrugged. “It feels right.” Jigen raised an eyebrow. Lupin shifted uncomfortably.

“Aren’t you three times divorced?”

“Twice actually. I don’t think I ever really divorced that guy on the ship.”

“Oh, well that’s much better.”

“In my defense,” Lupin said, “I’m pretty sure that one was technically still illegal back then anyway.” He cocked his head. “Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure Rebecca and I were never legally married either.” The thief sat up a bit straighter, probably trying to regain some sense of control, Jigen assumed. It always had been about the show with him. He felt a painful prick from an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “Why are you being such a dick about this anyway? I didn’t think you were the type to care about that crap.”

“I’m not! It’s just…” Jigen reached a hand up to pull his hat over his eyes, touched nothing but air, and settled for glaring at the carpet instead. He needed another glass of wine. “The last one wasn’t even a year ago.”

Lupin hesitated for a second, eyes darting around the room as he chose his next words. It was a vulnerability even Jigen didn’t get to see in him too often. The gunman softened despite himself. “What happened between me and Fujiko,” Lupin began slowly, “that was a mistake. For both of us.”

Jigen let out a small, humorless huff of laughter at that. “Mistake” was putting it lightly. Watching Lupin and Fujiko dance around each other all those months had been downright painful. It was so clearly something neither was happy with, no matter how many “couples activities,” as Lupin labeled them, the two completed. About three weeks in, Lupin had taken him out for lunch. For the first half-hour, they drank, laughed, and stole food off each other’s plates. It almost felt like old times. Then Fujiko called Lupin about picking out an ottoman. The metallically cheerful tone Lupin’s voice took was the same one he used when bluffing his way out of traps. Lupin took off early. Jigen finished his drink, paid the restaurant, took a smoke in the back alley, and left for New York that afternoon. And when Lupin showed up at his door half a year later with half a heist plan and divorce papers in the works, he’d let him in no questions asked and pretended he didn’t feel the silent sobs that night from the thief pressed against his back.

As far as Jigen was aware, Lupin and Fujiko somewhat salvaged their bond in France. Before that whole fiasco, Fujiko had disappeared from their lives like a fashionably dressed and vaguely menacing ghost. Jigen never really cared much for her presence, but even he had to admit that her absence left their group feeling lopsided in a way it never did before. As if some great counterweight lifted and tipped everything out of balance. Even more worrying, Lupin seemed uncharacteristically unconcerned with her vanishing act. If anyone told Jigen he’d miss sharing Lupin’s affections with the woman who consistently robbed him a year ago, he’d have asked what they were smoking and where he could try some. But while she was gone from Lupin’s life and he continued to avoid even mentioning her name, Jigen felt more like a stand-in for her than ever. He didn’t bother asking for specifics when Lupin broke her out of that oversized birdcage. He doubted they would have been given if he had. All he knew was that two weeks later she was back to forcing herself into heists as if she hadn’t been nonexistent for months beforehand, Lupin was back to letting her, and Jigen felt right for the first time that year.

Since then, it was as if nothing had happened. Lupin and Fujiko seemed more comfortable together than ever, Goemon stayed for longer periods of time without running off to train, and, despite the newly-returned Fujiko-shaped dent in his wallet, Jigen was happy enough lately to let the entire nightmare of a situation slide. Until now. Because now, Lupin was looking at him with a self-conscious look that made Jigen want to tear his heart out and he was torn between wanting Lupin to tell him it would be different this time and being terrified of hearing that old metallic sheen to his voice when he did so.

“You didn’t even see the worst of it,” Lupin continued. “You were gone pretty fast.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t gonna stand there and watch you two play pretend.”

“Harsh. You could’ve tried to talk me out of it.”

“You wouldn’t have listened.”

“I know.” Lupin tried to laugh it off, but Jigen knew it sounded hollow to both of them.

“What makes you think we’ll be any different? Settling down with me doesn’t mean you’re giving up any less than with her.”

“Oh no, that’s not-” Now Lupin did laugh, albeit softly. “That’s not what I’m suggesting. Trust me, lesson learned. There will be no settling down. Hell, we don’t even have to have rings.” He grinned at Jigen. “Though I do have a nice pair picked out and sitting pretty in a Russian museum if you want ‘em.” Jigen didn’t smile back.

“Look,” Lupin continued. “It was more than just ‘settling down’ that drove me and Fujiko apart.” He thought for a second. “You know we discussed getting back together after France?” Jigen raised an eyebrow in surprise. Lupin smirked. “Yeah. It was right after we landed in Spain. You and Goemon went out to get dinner. Me and Fujiko…” He trailed off, a dopey look taking over his face. Jigen soured, feeling more satisfaction than he thought he should have when Lupin noticed and wiped the look off himself. “Anyway, we talked about what happened, what went wrong, and if we should try again.”

“And?”

“Well, obviously we decided against it! I mean, if we’re already married, what else is there for us to do? Slowing down didn’t work! Half the fun is the chase!”

“So?”

“So you’re not like that!”

“…Oh.”

Lupin grinned at him again. “Fujiko is mysterious. She’s finicky. You never know what you’re going to get. That’s why I chase her. I like to believe she lets me because she sees something similar in me. You’re different. I don’t need to guess with you. I already know everything.”

“Bullshit.”

“Well I know enough. And you probably know a lot more than anyone else about me too.”

Jigen was looking at the floor again. “Bullshit.”

“Come on, Jigen-chan, I’m serious. There’s no one else who I could possibly ask.”

“What about Goemon?”

“Well now you're just looking for reasons to say no.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

Lupin huffed—when the hell, Jigen wondered, had he turned into the ridiculous one in this conversation? Lupin always did have a talent for that—“I love Goemon,” he started. “We both do. But the man isn’t exactly the type for this sort of thing.” Lupin smiled fondly. “He’s too traditional. I mean, we’ve gotten him to do some pretty untraditional things, but you have to admit this is different. He’ll want the whole shebang. I’m sure someday he’ll meet a nice girl he can settle down with in the Japanese countryside to spend the rest of his days. Or maybe he’ll become an old bachelor who just sits under waterfalls all day. Who knows? The point is, he and I wouldn’t make each other happy. Not like that.” His smile grew wider. “I mean just look at how he was today! You really think we wouldn’t drive each other crazy if he convinced himself he was ‘honor-bound’ or something and couldn’t go off on his own whenever he wanted—and he would. You know he would. If he even said yes in the first place.”

Jigen did know. Goemon taking his place had truthfully never even crossed his mind. The samurai shared a special place in both men’s hearts, but there was always the sense of a more casual closeness between them. No less deep and strong, but just a little more fluid about what exactly their relationship was. Anything official would just grate on the samurai until it pushed him away.

When Jigen didn’t reply, Lupin reached for a cigarette and leaned back on the couch, tapping his foot gently on the carpet. Jigen got the distinct impression the thief was waiting for him to make a move. At some point, the gunman’s blush had started to creep back onto his face, despite his silent protests that he was supposed to be angry right now. Finally, with an exaggerated grumble, Jigen plopped himself down on the couch next to Lupin, stubbornly refusing to look at the other man.

Without a word, Lupin grabbed a second cigarette and held it carefully in front of him until he gave in and took it in his teeth. A repeated movement with a lighter and in a few more seconds he allowed the thief to light it. Stubborn bastard. Lupin said something he didn’t quite catch. “What?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Lupin turned his head to look at him. “Do you remember when we first got together?”

Jigen put his cigarette out on the table, ignoring Lupin’s noise of distaste. “Sure. It was right after that job at the hot springs. You slammed me against a wall. Real dick move. Almost bruised my-”

“Not like that,” Lupin snorted, rolling his eyes. “I mean together. Like we are now. When did that happen?”

Jigen frowned, trying to remember. “I don’t know.” He knew there had to be a change at some point. Perhaps the first time they fell asleep together without starting anything. Or the first time he’d woken up to find Lupin making rose-shaped pancakes in the kitchen. Or the first time they’d curled up next to each other on the couch, too exhausted by the day to move, but too happy talking about nothing to fall asleep. The longer Jigen thought about it, the more he realized he couldn’t pin down a single moment. He’d never really acknowledged anything. He’d simply stopped denying Fujiko when she teased him about it. By the time Goemon joined up, there wasn’t any question. They simply were. “I don’t know,” he said again.

“I can’t think of a time either,” Lupin agreed. “It’s like we’ve always been this way. This close, I mean. I know we haven’t, but it’s like we’ve always been headed here.”  
Jigen scoffed. “What, like destiny? Give me a break.”

“No,” Lupin said, tone thoughtful. “More like…” He turned to face Jigen on the couch.

“You and me, we're like a gradient. We've always just slid into our next color naturally. Half the time, I don't even realize it’s changed. But it always has and it always feels right.” Lupin reached out to pull one of Jigen’s hands into his. With a thumb, he traced the rough calluses that creased it from years of pulling triggers as if they were the most delicate treasures in the world.

“I don’t think this is any different. It's just the next color. Honestly, I think we've been dyed in it for a long time. We just haven’t really acknowledged it. But I want to! I want to shout it from the rooftops!” Lupin’s eyes caught Jigen’s and held them there. That same soft, happy stare that got them into this mess. “And I want you to do it with me.”

Jigen felt his heart tug again. “What if it isn’t the next color? What if there isn’t one and it’s just blank from this moment on?” He hated the pathetic crack in his voice. “What if this is it?”

Lupin smiled. Soft. “It won’t be.” There was nothing metallic about it.

The tug in Jigen’s chest burst like a firework. He felt like he was going to float off the ground. He was sure Lupin could tell just from his gaze. He doubted it was the gaze of a dignified man. He squeezed his eyes shut, hated how weak that darkness made him feel. Opened them again. God, if only he had his hat. He looked down at Lupin’s legs instead, moving his hand from the other man’s to squeeze the thigh there gently. “Alright, fine,” he muttered. “But if you make it a spectacle, I’m standing you up at the altar.”

Lupin laughed. “No worries there! If we went for the whole show, Pops’d only ruin it anyway.”

Jigen chuckled at the image of Zenigata crashing through the doors just in time for the vows, loudly insisting the thief was under arrest while Lupin questioned how he even found them again in the first place. Although, knowing Lupin, he might just send the old man an official invitation.

“You know,” Lupin said. “You could stand to sound a bit more excited to be my fiancé.”

“And you could stand to be a bit less of an asshole, but I guess we’re both going to be disappointed.” Before he could even finish the sentence, Lupin was kissing him, hand on the gunman’s cheek. Jigen grinned into his lips, pushing his free hand through Lupin’s hair while he was at it. For the next few minutes, the rest of the world seemed to fade. When Lupin finally pulled away, Jigen followed him upward, grunting at the interruption. Lupin ignored him, hands still on Jigen’s shoulders where he’d moved them to push the gunman down, sniffing the air above him. “Do you smell something burning?”

Jigen gave an experimental sniff of his own. Now that Lupin mentioned it, there did seem to be a burnt smell in the air outside of the usual smell of cigarette smoke. It seemed to be coming from… “Crap!”

Lupin yelped as Jigen sprang up from under him, pushing the other man onto the floor as he did so. Jigen ignored the offended complaints the thief sent his way, instead making a beeline toward the oven. The now smoking oven. He groaned.

“Well,” said Lupin, coming up behind him, still rubbing his sore tailbone, “so much for dinner.”

Despite Jigen’s best efforts, The mozzarella sticks were unsalvageable. Burnt beyond recognition. To Lupin’s credit, he only laughed for three minutes before offering to order pizza for both of them. He knew a good place downtown anyway. Finest tomato sauce in the area. Not that they ate much of it once it arrived. If anything, the delivery man's interruption was an annoyance. Lupin only got through half a slice before he gave up and was on top of the gunman again. Jigen smiled peacefully, putting his own slice down in favor of pushing up Lupin’s shirt instead. His fiancé tasted like cigarette smoke and tomato sauce.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing dialogue between these two is really fun! They understand each other so well!
> 
> Lupin’s also a lot less of a bastard here than he usually is, but he’s been shown to act sensitive when he wants to, so I’ll allow it.
> 
> The mozzarella stick thing actually happened to my family, by the way. Except we forgot about them for over an hour. They were practically rocks. 1/10 would not recommend.
> 
> It’s also very important to me that you know Lupin was only half-joking about the flower petals and poetry. He’s squirreled that thought away for later whether Jigen likes it or not.


End file.
